


The Top Survey Responses for "Terrible Ideas"

by earlgreytea68



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Family Feud - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 17:16:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4230216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreytea68/pseuds/earlgreytea68
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Arthur keeps track of Eames's terrible ideas, and playing "Family Feud" is a big one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Top Survey Responses for "Terrible Ideas"

**Author's Note:**

> I have always, always, always wanted to write the same exact concept in two different fandoms and today I managed to do it with the crack prompt of the game show "Family Feud." VICTORY IS MINE. BAGELS, MUFFINS, ETC.

Arthur had a Moleskine in which he wrote down all of the most terrible ideas he’d ever heard in his life. At the top of the first page of the Moleskine, he’d written in bold, huge letters: _TERRIBLE IDEAS_. And then he had written immediately underneath it: _Putting the mark’s very expensive watch in a vat of pudding_. And Eames had said, “Darling, that isn’t exactly what happened,” and, “It wasn’t a _vat_ of pudding,” and, “And technically it was chocolate mousse,” and, “I thought that—”

And Arthur had shown Eames the Moleskine and shouted, “This is my notebook of terrible ideas! It will be for every idea you have! I will write them all down in this book and then they will all be documented for if anyone ever calls me to serve as a reference for you!” 

Eames had been silent for a moment and then he had said, “Knowing that, love, I’m probably not going to list you as a—”

“Shut up!” Arthur had said. 

The Terrible Ideas Moleskine made an appearance whenever Eames did. Sometimes Arthur just wrote down things like _The shirt Eames is wearing, Aug. 2, Bangkok_. Sometimes Arthur wrote down things like, _Insisting we will all be able to make it out of this Titanic dream before drowning unpleasantly in ice cold water._ (Eames: “Technically I think we froze to death—” Arthur: “Shut up.”) Sometimes Arthur wrote things down secretly, sometimes he wrote them down very publicly with lots of flourishes. Either way, Eames periodically flipped through the Moleskine and chortled to himself and said things like, “Poughkeepsie, that was a good time, eh?” and Arthur would have to say things like, “Poughkeepsie is _never_ a good time and especially not when you have the idea that we should ‘save money’ by staying with my aunt Mildred,” and Eames would just sigh and say, “Good times, good times,” and flip the page. 

Arthur fucking hated Eames. 

The latest entry in his Terrible Ideas Moleskine was _Use the inane game of Family Feud to get the client’s five sisters to spill where they’ve hidden his inheritance._

“No one will believe we’re all a family,” Arthur pointed out, pointing from Eames to himself to Ariadne to Yusuf to Saito. 

“Arthur, that is racist and small-minded of you,” Eames told him. “Families come in all shapes and sizes.” 

“He is not even on our dreamsharing team!” Arthur said, pointing to Saito. 

“No, but five people have to play Family Feud and he agreed to help out,” said Eames.

Everyone else nodded and thanked Saito for coming like this all made all the fucking sense in the world. 

“We could have called Cobb,” Arthur said. 

“Oh, Cobb’s going to play the host,” said Eames. 

Arthur sighed. “How are we supposed to be related?” Arthur asked, crossing his arms. 

“I adopted all of you,” said Saito. 

“But we’re having a relationship,” Eames said, gesturing between himself and Arthur, “and it’s causing a lot of tension in the family because no one can agree whether or not it’s incestuous and inappropriate, so we thought we’d go on Family Feud to try to get past that.” 

“No,” said Arthur. 

He said _no_ very firmly. 

So of course Eames said to Cobb when Cobb asked about his family, “We’re here because we’re all trying to work through the fact that Arthur and I are in love.” Eames draped his arm over Arthur’s shoulder. 

“No, we’re not,” Arthur said. 

“And we are tired of hiding it from the world,” Eames continued. 

Amazingly, the five sisters across the way looked touched by this story. Of course, thought Arthur. The intel said they were all hopelessly addicted to soap operas. 

Ariadne told Cobb that she was training to be an astronaut. Yusuf said that he was the largest drug dealer in the Western Hemisphere. Saito said that he was an accountant. 

Cobb said, “Sorry, Arthur, I almost forgot to ask what it is that you do?” 

“I hope to die,” Arthur said, shaking Eames’s arm off his shoulder. “Basically daily.” 

“He’s so self-loathing,” said Eames sadly, patting his shoulder. 

“Sometimes I hope to die every single _minute_ ,” said Arthur. 

“Okay, let’s move on,” said Cobb. “Let’s go to the first category. Eames, Sally, you’re up first.” 

“Wish me luck, darling,” Eames said to Arthur. 

“I’m going to kill you,” Arthur told him. “In a place where the actual result of that will seriously be _your death_.” 

“Darling,” said Eames, looking touched, and then went over to stand by Cobb. He executed some ridiculous bow over Sally’s hand, and she giggled and pretended to fan herself. Arthur concentrated on not gagging. 

“First category,” said Cobb, reading from a card in his hand. “Things that are incredibly attractive.” 

Eames jumped in immediately and said, “Arthur’s arse.” 

Arthur’s jaw dropped. 

It turned out to be the number one response. 

Eames came bouncing back over to the group, where everyone high-fived him like this was _totally normal_.

Arthur said, “What the _fuck_.”

Cobb said, “Arthur, what’s your guess: things that are incredibly attractive.” 

“A well-cut suit,” said Arthur, hoping the next category was going to be “People you would like to maim most in the universe,” because Arthur was going to ace that one. 

“A well-cut suit” was actually on the list. Arthur stared. 

Eames said, “Well done, love.” 

“Ariadne,” said Cobb, moving along, “things that are incredibly attractive.” 

“Arthur’s dimples when he all too rarely smiles,” said Ariadne. 

And there is was up on the list, exactly like that: _Arthur’s dimples when he all too rarely smiles_. Arthur’s eyes narrowed. 

Yusuf’s answer was, “Arthur being amazing the way he always is.” 

Also on the list. 

Saito said, “Arthur’s gorgeous melted-chocolate eyes,” with not a trace of irony. 

Arthur turned to Eames. “No, seriously, what the actual fuck, Eames.” 

“Your turn, darling,” Eames said cheerfully, and steered him up toward Cobb. 

Arthur shook the sister’s hand over the podium. 

Cobb said, “Your category is: Eames’s best features.” 

Arthur gaped at Cobb. 

The sister leaped in and hit the buzzer. 

Arthur gaped at her. 

“His lips,” she said. “Definitely his lips.” 

“Lips” was on the list, but in second place. 

“What’s better than his lips?” she pouted, hands on her hips. 

“Arthur?” asked Cobb. “Any guesses?” 

Arthur frowned, because he knew exactly what was on top of the list. He glared at Eames, and then he said to Cobb, “How good he is in a dream,” because Arthur complained a lot but he kept working with Eames because Eames was the best and it was fucking annoying that Eames knew that. 

“Correct!” said Cobb, delighted. 

Arthur stalked back over to Eames. “Is there even a client? Or is this all some kind of weird elaborate set-up?”

Eames said, “Darling, the next category is ‘Things you want to do to Eames.’ Survey says…”

“Shut him _up_ ,” said Arthur, and kissed him. 

“Number one answer,” Eames mumbled.


End file.
